


slow burn

by naktoms



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, please read it now it is so much better than the first version PLEASE, updated january 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:31:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4806338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naktoms/pseuds/naktoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem with "no strings attached" is when Hyungwon wishes there was one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slow burn

**Author's Note:**

> so first:  
> 1) "jesse why dont u use wonhos real name u shitbag" because i also write bts fic and it fucks me up  
> 2) "jesse why are you writing mx fic when you could be wRITING SMTH BETTER!!" because cindy hates me
> 
> then second:  
> hello everyone i've come to get my sinful hands all over monsta x  
> me and bucketfulloffandom are writing something together soon. be prepared. and anticipant.  
> kudos + comments are appreciated!! i hope you enjoy!!

Hyungwon is gorgeous.

He’s known this since he was very little, used to being showered with praise and catching adoring eyes in the hallways by the time he was in his teens. Someone complimenting him came as no surprise, because it was old news by then that he is beautiful.

College is no different, but gazes are clingier and boys think Hyungwon owes them something. Really, it’s the other way around-- Hyungwon deserves more than a few drinks and a mediocre fuck. Except, this particular day, Hyungwon is in the aftermath of way more than a few drinks and what he remembers to be a mediocre fuck. His eyelids are almost shutting by themselves as he types in ‘hangover remedies’ into the search bar at a snail’s pace, sitting in a cafe currently unoccupied save for him and the workers. If it had been any busier, he would have just stayed in bed.

But, he can’t look like a pussy. His head hurts and his stomach keeps rolling but his dignity must remain intact.

When Hyungwon hears a friendly, “Hey!” from behind him, he folds his arms and lets his head fall onto them.

The _hey_ is repeated, and Hyungwon knows the voice. It’s, unfortunately, his best friend Wonho (alias; to this day, Hyungwon does not know his real name), and he really doesn’t want to talk to him.  
Hyungwon looks over when he hears something being placed onto the table and sees that Wonho has brought him a bottle of water and toast in a baggie.

“I went by your dorm,” Wonho elaborates, sliding into the chair opposite Hyungwon as Hyungwon sits up. “Minhyuk said that you left a couple hours ago, so I figured this was the first place you would have gone. The toast is cold by now but it’s got strawberry jam on it.”

Hyungwon is already unzipping the baggie and pulling the toast out by the time Wonho stops talking. It is indeed cold but Hyungwon could give a shit less and practically shoves it in his mouth, to Wonho’s apparent delight.

By now, Wonho should know not to expect thank yous from Hyungwon, but, just this once, Hyungwon thanks him. Granted, it’s mumbled through a mouthful of toast, but it still makes Wonho smile.

“No problem, babe,” Wonho says in response, opening the bottle of water for Hyungwon and pushing it his way. “Here, drink up. It helps flush the alcohol out.”

Hyungwon groans in response, following directions and knocking back almost half the bottle in one go. He makes a face as the water mingles with the distinct taste of shit that’s lingering in his mouth, letting his head drop to rest on the table again, and Wonho laughs.

“Still cute,” Wonho says, reaching over to run his fingers through Hyungwon’s tangled hair, picking through knots carefully.

“Ugh, I don’t have the time for flattery today.” Hyungwon mutters, pressing his cheek against the table.

“Not flattery, just facts.”

“You’re so stupid,” Hyungwon complains.

“Debatable.”

“I hate you.”

  
  
Basically the instant his hangover dissipates, Hyungwon is back to the usual. It’s just another night, against a wall with hands on his hips and teeth at his throat, but with two major differences. First, and most stunning, he’s sober. Second, almost equally as stunning, it’s Wonho holding him, body flush against his as he bites bruises into being.

Really, he’s confused more than anything, past the heat burning him up. He didn’t even think he was Wonho’s type, pretty and conceited as he was, and thought much less that Wonho would ever make a move. It might have made sense if Wonho was drunk, but he’s just as sober as Hyungwon.

Hyungwon tries to rationalize it but Wonho has this way of rolling his hips that scatters Hyungwon’s thoughts. He almost gasps in surprise when Wonho nearly picks him up and pushes him up the wall, so Hyungwon’s legs can rest comfortably around Wonho’s waist.

Wonho breaks away from Hyungwon’s neck finally, making eye contact. There’s something dark burning in Wonho’s eyes, desire maybe. It’s certainly nothing Hyungwon can remember seeing before.  
Hyungwon imagines that look in just a slightly different situation, one that involves less clothes, and bites his lip to keep a moan away. Wonho captures his lips, kissing him deep and hard. Hyungwon aches.

For the first time he can remember, Hyungwon wishes he wasn’t above begging to be fucked. Sadly, it seems like Wonho is content to kiss around Hyungwon’s face and neck until the end of time.

Or, well, until Wonho’s hands slide up the back of Hyungwon’s thighs and he whispers, “I want to blow you, is that alright?”

Hyungwon can’t do much more than nod.  
  


Hyungwon has a picture on his phone now of Wonho with his cum on his face. Things are awkward.

They are sitting once more in the local cafe, across from one another. Wonho is appraising said picture of himself with a careful gaze.

“So, first of all,” Hyungwon says, “what the _fuck_.”

“What?” Wonho asks, passing Hyungwon’s phone back to him. He momentarily returns his attention to his neglected Americano, no doubt cooling within its styrofoam enclosure.

Hyungwon decides to start with, “I cannot count how many times you have called me a whore.” Wonho responds with a one-shouldered shrug. “You have also told me a million times that I am ‘not even as pretty as I think I am.’ You think I look like a pile of dog shit.”

“I said that _one time_ ,” Wonho replies indignantly. “It was also when you were hungover, so.”

Hyungwon cannot deny that he looks like dog shit when hungover. “Okay, then. So, what, you decided to come over to my dorm unannounced when you _knew_ Minhyuk was out and then, then, _accost_ me with your sinful mouth and hands?”

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” Wonho replies smoothly after finishing off his coffee. Hyungwon, for all his sluttiness, feels his face heat up. Wonho sighs almost imperceptibly, leaning back in his chair. “I wanted to catch you while you were sober, and alone. I don’t like tasting alcohol when I kiss someone, it’s why I keep to myself at parties, and I didn’t want to fight for your attention.”

Hyungwon considers this, twisting his mouth to the side. “So,” he begins, reconsiders, clasps his hands together and stares at them resolutely. “How long, then?”

“How long have I wanted to fuck you?” Wonho says, like he’s discussing the fucking weather. Hyungwon splutters, and Wonho seems to take great enjoyment from his embarrassment. “I was just joking, you know. I’ve been attracted to you since I saw you.”

This is quite a juicy tidbit of information. Hyungwon is still staring at his hands, thumbnail running across a hanging piece of skin.

“Now,” Wonho continues, “I can’t say I want to _date_ you.”

“What the fuck,” Hyungwon replies flatly, as if that is an insult. An offense to his delicate sensibilities.

Wonho holds up both hands like he’s calming a wild animal. Hyungwon huffs. “Calm down. I just really don’t think you suit the whole monogamous lifestyle, based on collected evidence.”

Irrefutable. “Okay,” Hyungwon concedes. “So what do you want to do?”

“What if we were like… friends with benefits?” Wonho says, and now there is a delighted lilt to his voice. “Not dating, but not with awkward sexual tension. Little to no strings attached.”

Hyungwon considers this as well, raising his eyes to watch Wonho’s face, searching for anything to hint towards a joke. He finds nothing, so he licks his lips and says, “Depends on how well you fuck me.”  
A grin spreads across Wonho’s face. “Alright.”  
  


Hyungwon is not disappointed.

He’s never really called someone’s name in bed before because he rarely learns their name before they bang, but his voice is very near to hoarse and there are still tears in his eyes even after they’re finished.

Wonho is quick to sit upright, but he does not leave the bed. Instead, he reaches over to push Hyungwon’s sweaty hair away from his damp forehead. Hyungwon pulls his gaze from the ceiling over to Wonho. “You,” Hyungwon begins, a little short of breath, “fuck like a dream.”

Wonho smiles, carefully wiping unshed tears from Hyungwon’s eyes. “You sound a little rough, did I take your voice away from you?”

Hyungwon hums in response, closing his eyes. The bed shifts like Wonho is laying back down, and Hyungwon turns over when Wonho puts an arm around him.

“Are you into cuddling?” Wonho asks, and it seems less like teasing and more like a genuine question.

“Mmm, not usually. Mostly because I’m usually drunk and I pass out right after.” Hyungwon says, pressing his face into Wonho’s bare shoulder. Tonight, he is decidedly sober, and sleepy, and… yeah, up for cuddling. “Kiss me again before I fall asleep,” Hyungwon mumbles against Wonho’s skin, smiling when he feels more than hears Wonho laugh.

“Alright, babe,” Wonho says, kissing Hyungwon gently when Hyungwon tips his head up. It’s almost a fond gesture and it makes Hyungwon’s cheeks burn, quickly ducking his head before Wonho can see the blush on his cheeks.

Hyungwon feels Wonho pull the blankets up around them and thinks to himself, _yes, this is gonna work_.  
  


The problem with “no strings attached” is when Hyungwon wishes there was one.

It’s mostly just him searching for an excuse to stop sleeping around, because he’s everyone’s number one candidate for a booty call and if he was dating someone that would save him from a lot of unpleasant conversations. However, he thinks it would also stop him from wanting to choke the next person to tell him, “Oh, you’re fuckbuddies with Wonho? He is the best fuck ever, you’re so lucky!”

Because, here’s the issue: to Hyungwon, Wonho is not just the “best fuck ever.” He is kind, and funny, and cares deeply. He takes care of Hyungwon when he gets just a little too wasted, doesn’t judge him when he complains about some guy who was inconsiderate with him in bed, brings him food when he’s too lazy to leave his dorm.

So, it takes another couple months for Hyungwon to realize that it’s not just one string he wants, the one saving him from having to turn down another ugly dude that he fucked while he was wasted; it’s the string that would give him security and another that would make him feel appreciated and yet another that would make him happy.

“I don’t want to be a whore anymore,” Hyungwon says simply. He’s aiming for… a joke, he guesses, something melodramatic. He just misses sadness.

“Oh?” Wonho replies, prompting Hyungwon for more.

“I’m not getting any sad ideas about my self worth or anything,” Hyungwon explains quickly, knowing Wonho would easily shower him in adoration and reassurance if he got that idea. That’s the _problem._ Hyungwon pulls his knees up to his chest, continuing. “I just… I think you’ve spoiled me.”

“Really now,” Wonho says, setting his textbook aside and shifting on the couch so he’s facing Hyungwon, his full attention on him. Hyungwon blushes under his gaze.

“Yeah, really.” Hyungwon says, trying to hide his pink cheeks behind his knees. “If I’ve got the presence of mind to do it, I’m just laying there the whole time like, god, Wonho could do better. And then it just feels cheap and useless.”

Wonho smiles, reaching over to run a hand through Hyungwon’s hair. “You flatter me. Why are you telling me this, though?”

Hyungwon licks his lips, nervous. Wonho’s eyes are intent, gaze soft, and it makes Hyungwon’s heart stutter. “It’s-- It’s not really about just not sleeping around anymore, I… I don’t know. I want commitment.”

“Well, there’s something I thought I’d never hear.” Wonho replies, but it’s gentle and doesn’t imply anything more than something close to disbelief. “Commitment. I could commit to you, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Hyungwon feels something warm settle in his chest, something like relief. He closes his eyes, tilting his head into Wonho’s hand. “It is. What kind of commitment?”

The couch springs creak and Hyungwon opens his eyes just before Wonho kisses his temple. “If we can’t make dating work, I can be your, uh… resident dream-like fucker.”

Hyungwon laughs, satisfied smile coming to his face when Wonho kisses the corner of his mouth. “Alright, alright. I like that.”  
  


So. Things end in fire more times than not, Hyungwon falling to pieces beneath Wonho’s touch and Wonho’s hot breath on Hyungwon’s skin. But sometimes it’s just their hands slotting together and an in-depth critique of the main character of a drama on TV, take out Chinese and Hyungwon trying to murder Wonho with the TV remote.

It feels safe. It feels like Hyungwon isn’t going to get hurt. It feels like the opposite of every failed relationship Hyungwon has struggled through until now. It feels like Hyungwon has been waiting a lifetime for Wonho, and he still doesn’t even know his real name. Maybe that’s alright.


End file.
